sweet & bitter
by Waisk
Summary: Levi always adds three drops of honey to his coffee. Levi x Petra drabbles. Rated T for 80% of what comes out of Levi's mouth.
1. bittersweet

**A/N: Honey is one of the few foods that doesn't spoil.**

**Enjoy c:**

* * *

He is just like coffee, Petra thought.

His name has been on the lips of every person because no one can resist seeking him out—not in this deathly desperate world, which kicks at its victims until they must cling for a hold on normalcy; until looking forward to another day becomes a privilege, a power. His name wakes tired, tired, tired people from their stupor of just living and—_did they dare imagine_—makes them start _hoping_. And so his name becomes a drug, a constant, a necessity.

He is _humanity'sstrongestsoldier._

The high-ups sought him out, fingers reaching like puppet strings to reign in and claim for their own the power of his name. But at first taste he would prove to be too bitter, too invasive on the senses; so the high-ups tried to sugarcoat him—_ha!_—to overpower and stamp out his bitterness so that he could be just like everyone else and they would not have to be on pins and needles in attempt to reach him. But after all he is too powerful, and so

they left him alone.

But to those close enough to him, those who overcame the first tastes of bitterness—he is steeled adrenaline when there is nowhere to run, an iron fist that is unyielding but always, always—dependable.

To Petra, he is an acquired taste of home, drips of clarity that turn her mornings into everything and nothing but the promise of more time.

And to Petra, like coffee, he is

addicting.

* * *

She is just like honey, Levi thought.

She is all sunshine and bird-light footsteps that not even her soldier boots can weigh down, smiling golden crescent eyes that turn away no one—until someone she loves is in danger.

Then she is_ worth an army all on her own. _

But among those she trusts, she leaves herself unguarded and uninhibited with vivacity that never seems to expire or spoil, no matter the amount of blood poured in it; uninhibited with purity that others had lost the instant they stamped a fist to their heart, binding themselves to a contract in which they themselves have nothing to gain, not really. In such an unfair game too many lose themselves because it is easy to give in to the bitterness and consuming darkness, easy to be filled with hate. Yet she has not a drop of bitterness. And so her radiance becomes strength, comfort, and sustenance.

It makes no sense, how her hidden armor of stinging fierceness never pierces through, never taints the goodness inside. And too few people recognize, admit, appreciate—that her _good mornings_ and _are you OKs _are luxuries to have, butterscotch moonstones in the rough.

To Levi, she is warmth poured by a familiar face, a taste of home only missed when it is gone.

And to Levi, like honey, she is

forever.

* * *

**A/N: Please drop me a PM if you would like to suggest a prompt for a future drabble...and R&R! Please? For Levi-heichou's sake? OK thanks bye.**


	2. snorting

Levi did not enjoy being woken in the middle of a rare, full night of sleep.

Especially not by Hanji's maniacal, near-hysteria cackle and a cacophony of pots and pans that punched _they're making a mess! _down to the pits of Levi's stomach until he wrenched his blankets aside in fury.

And he _definitely _did not enjoy the sight of five adults—soldiers, for _fuck's_ sake—prancing around the dining area at _fucking _one thirty-six in the _fucking _morning.

"Oh no did we wake you, Corporal?" Petra slid down from her perch on the edge of the table, her beaming expression quickly wilting to one of concern when she saw Levi, who made a grab for his annoyance before it could evaporate under her anxious, warm, buttery gaze. He allowed himself a second to immerse in how the candle lights spun her hair into strands of gold—before swallowing back the bitter sarcasm on the tip of his tongue, opting instead for a quick scan of the room:

Erd, leaning against the wall, eyed Levi with his usual nonchalance before raising the mug in his hand towards Levi—_cheers, Corporal_—and taking a sip, amusement pulling on one corner of his mouth.

_Second-in-command, my ass_, Levi spat in his mind.

Gunther stood beside Erd, arms crossed loosely and staring into space.

Auruo was standing at the corner of the table close to Petra, but leaned away slightly when Levi entered.

Eren Jaeger, who was barely on the edge of his chair and sanity, judging by the way the brunette all but sprung tears of relief at the sight of the man who had beaten him shitless just a few days ago.

(That beating had been necessary, but wasn't this team supposed to be _protecting _the brat now?)

And then there was Hanji, standing smack in the center of the open area of the room, straddling a broomstick.

"What the hell are you all do—"

"Levi!" Hanji shouted ecstatically, hopping around on her broom. "Finally decided to join the fun?"

Hanji had taken the liberty of skipping into Levi's room earlier in the evening, barraging him with things about "team initiation," to which, until now, he had not given a second thought.

"I would be delighted to see from your perspective how much more necessary this is than sleep, Hanji," Levi deadpanned, "but unfortunately I cannot shove my head that far up your a—"

"_We'replayingcharadesyoushouldjoinus!_" Petra's high-pitched interjection cut through Levi's low drawl, and she stepped in front of him with smiling eyes just slightly tinged with panic.

Levi almost smiled at her desperation to preserve what little innocence was left among those in the room.

_Give it up_, he almost wanted to say. _None of us are pure anymore. _

_So why make it worse? _She would retort.

_Why indeed. _

"Oh yeah!" Hanji turned to the others again. "Guess who!"

With this, she produced a feather duster from somewhere, waved it around, and mimed sticking the handle end of the broomstick up her backside.

"This is supposed to be a person we know?" Auruo smirked, scrunching up one side of his face. "You look like the Wicked Witch of the West in heat…"

Out of the corner of his eye, Levi saw Petra wince.

"…who developed a cleaning fetish—"

. . .

s

i

l

e

n

c

e

. . .

Levi watched as they laughed.

"Get it?!" Hanji gasped, neck-deep in mirth. "'Cuz Levi always has a stick up his as—"

Laughed as if their lives were so easy, as if there was nothing in the world to worry about, nothing _worth _worrying about—no blood and ashes to cloud their consciences, their memories. There was only now,

as Hanji continued humping the broomstick

as Gunther clamped his lips together but good-naturedly twinkled his dark eyes

as Erd almost spat a mouthful of water back into his mug

as Eren Jaeger brought a scar-riddled hand up to his mouth—not to inflict pain, not this time, but to half-heartedly suppress laughter that bubbled from a seventeen-year-old, not a soldier

as Auruo cursed with a bloodied lisp from snickering and shouting at the same time

as Petra let out a snort when laughing—

and immediately slapped two hands against her mouth.

Hanji dropped her broom with a dull clang on the stone floor as she stared at Petra unabashedly, who was still shaking from laughter but was now hiding her face.

_Don't do that_.

Hanji chucked the feather duster over her shoulder, where it hurtled toward Erd's face with uncanny precision.

"Did…_did you just snort?!_" Hanji cried. And that set everyone off again, until Petra peeled back her shielding fingers, wrapping them instead around her torso as she doubled over in laughter.

When he saw her face again, Levi let out a breath he did not know he had been holding.

_[Petra snorts when she laughs too hard.]_

He felt like he should write this down, the time and date of when he learned this about her and carry the note in his pocket as a reminder, a little piece of the candle-light and sunset-haired girl who had now turned her gaze upon him once more.

He would have liked to keep looking at her—but for now, he had appearances to keep up.

"All of you shut the hell up and go to bed!"

"_All of you shut the hell u—"_

If not for Petra's concern for their innocence, Levi would have strangled Hanji right then and there.

* * *

**A/N: So somehow this chapter turned into more of a ramble on Levi and his squad, with not nearly enough Levi and Petra. But I had the plot idea and I was determined to update today, so here you are. I swear on my new Scouting Legion jacket (yupi'maspoiledbrat) to have more Rivetra next chapter. R&R? Love you all! :)**


	3. satin and leather

**a/n: ****Anyone you recognize belongs to Hajime Isayama, but there are two OCs in this chapter-shoutout to my two fellow soldiers who inspired them!**

**As always, enjoy c:**

* * *

Humanity needs to sort out its priorities.

"Raise your arms please, Corporal Levi."

_Fuck you._

"Thank you, Corporal."

First was that Hanji, slapping a _team initiation _into his face just to screw with him—holyshithisheadhurtjustthinkingaboutit—

Then Petra had the sheer _temerity _to ask if the Jaeger brat could go gallivanting off to visit his friends—stammering scrawny blonde & little miss redscarf—and the _audacity _to beg _today's a free day, sir _and _don't worry I'll watch over him, Corporal_—

And now _this_.

"Your suit will be delivered as soon as possible, Corporal Levi." The tailor rolls back his measuring tape with a few well-practiced flicks of the wrist. "Take care, Corporal."

Levi sends him off with an ice-blade glare.

_If only killing you could get me out of this._

But the tailor had already whisked away Levi's measurements, and it's as if this single fact makes the entire situation inevitable.

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose—

.

"_It's been ordered by the king."_

"_I don't remember that dog giving a fuck when we were all out here dying."_

"_Our usefulness has become apparent now and the politics have readjusted. Surely you know that."_

"_Then why are the bastards punishing us?"_

…

"_Just make sure you get a date, Levi."_

.

—silent profanity rises in steamy wisps and scorches the inside of his mouth.

* * *

Petra smoothes her thumb over cream vanilla paper, as heavy in her hands as the envelope's royal seal that settles thickly in her gut.

_To Miss Petra Ral,_

_You are cordially invited as an honored guest to…_

A ball.

Petra does not know what to think, and she isn't when her mind tints champagne-satin colored and

_long fingers ghost electricity over her cheekbones. _

"_You look beautiful, Petra."_

She snatches back her hand, mind blurring with heat as she tosses the invitation far away from her.

* * *

Erwin is at the end of his line.

"I never thought I would have to repeat orders to you, Levi—as a commanding officer, you _must have _a date."

Levi is so far past his line that it is no longer visible.

"Then who's yours?" he snaps back, long fingers tangling bone-tight around the handle of his coffee cup.

"Petra."

And a sudden pinprick of weight screws into Levi's chest and suddenly all he can see is her tininess pressed against Erwin's hulking figure and he is about to comment about how _fucking awkward _they will look together—

Erwin wishes Levi could see himself now, shoulders tense as steel cords and hard eyes usually so grounded in reality hazed over with the effort to see something that is somehow eluding him.

_You're the one eluding yourself, Levi._

Erwin scrapes his chair backward and Levi focuses again on the commander, who stands looking down at him in cerulean amusement.

Then Levi understands and the weight is gone but

"Erwin Smith you manipulative littl—"

The commander slaps a broad palm on Levi's shoulder and walks away.

* * *

Of course, it is she whom he finally asks.

"Petra?"

"Yes, Corporal?"

Warm-as-butterscotch eyes melt the words right off the tip of his tongue.

"Be my partner to the ball."

It is not a question, and who is she to resist this man who can demand and persuade and _tempt _all at once? Still, she pauses for the semblance of contemplation, _refusing _to be a gushing, overly-eager child. But the next second her smile spills out of its floodgates, too wide and too bright—but Levi's eyes are attuned to her brightness and he does not blink.

"I love would—I mean, _I would love to_."

That evening, Petra picks roses for the dining table.

* * *

"Where are you going?"

Petra strains to keep her smile in place.

"You've had the last two dances, Baron Duerr. I don't wish to upset my c—partner."

The Baron's fat-swollen fingers do not loosen their clutch on her waist, but he raises two coal piece eyes, pressed into a face of ashen dough, to scan the ballroom of dancers. His voice is crackled tar and each breath sounds forcefully pulled out of his throat, as if clogged by the rolling flabs of his neck.

"It's a shame what the army does to young girls' beauty…but you…" The eyes look down at her again. "You are the only one who has not been ruined."

Petra stiffens. A few yards away, Levi notices and leans away from the marble wall against which he had been standing sentry, because _finally _he has an excuse to rip the Baron's doughy fingers off of his—

Levi blinks and—

Petra has both pearl satin gloves gathered smoothly in one hand, the other constricting a manacle around the massive wrist on her waist.

.

"_Now push away from the body."_

"_From here, Corporal?"_

_He flicks his head to the left, towards his wrist._

"_Here." She feels the cords of his arm tighten. "Now try to dislocate my shoulder."_

_She has no qualms about the adamantine in his sinews—so she pushes._

.

Petra's pale neck is taunt as she raises her chin, as if she is about to kiss the bloated face that is iced over with shock.

"Do not forget, _Baron_…" She makes sure to slice the words along the rims of his ears. "I, too, am a soldier."

Her skin crawls from her contact with his arm because _she can't stand to touch it for one more second—_she snaps back her hand and marches away.

The world is spinning and Petra has to pivot her vision to one section of the room at a time, but the cream-and-rose noblewomen blur together and all she ends up seeing are _her_ people—the people she has long painted in her mind leather brown and forest green, who stand out to her in their attempted camouflage of sashes and rich colors.

She sees their firm footsteps trained to leave things behind and to move past holes in their world, not to dance into protecting arms and across solid floors. She sees satin-wrapped shoulders that are a shade too wide; scars left uncovered and scars hidden behind shawls and high collars and hard hearts.

She sees, but does not linger on, the shadow-memories of her people who are not in the room.

Everywhere she looks, there is _difference_ that goes down to the bone and flesh.

She knows she shouldn't be thinking like this—dividing, categorizing, discriminating. Satin or leather, they are all human, and she would die for any of them. Of that, she has no doubt.

But how dare the Baron laugh at those he does not understand. How dare he take the meat and pick at their bones.

She now understands a little why Levi's eyes snarl contempt at mention of the rich or royal, why his words are forged twisted and white-hot.

—_presumptuous—foul—lazy—taking us for granted— _

Petra wishes she knew the parts of Levi's past that still bleed this hatred into him, hatred so vast it could drown her current aggravation many times over. She cannot imagine carrying around with her such an ugly, angry, alive emotion.

_Levi._

Reality seeps back into her senses.

She needs to find Levi. Her corporal, her—date.

Petra flushes at how deeply she had sunk into her own conscious, and begins looking around her haphazardly in search of black hair and white uniform. Not for the first time, she feels disgruntled at her height.

As she stumbles in the general direction of their dining table, Petra finds herself disagreeing with Levi. Surely the high-ups are not all cruel—simply naïve, for believing that stuffing an army into a ballroom will win the soldiers' loyalty, reassure their worth and status.

She wants to make them see that it will take more than wealth and power to fill the rifts of war and loss.

"Petra."

_Levi!_

She spins until she faces his liquid steel eyes.

"Corporal!" She is all smiles. "I was looking for you!"

Levi steps closer and searches for hurt in her eyes.

"What did the bastard do to you?"

He sees it only for a flash.

"He didn't do anything to me, Corporal…he just…" Petra blinks down at the ground. "He insulted the Scouting Legion." She pulls her chin up again to meet his eyes. "I will take full responsibilities for my actions. But—but I am not sorry for them."

Damn the high heavens is she positively _alluring_ when she's tough.

His gaze slides effortlessly down the slippery slope of her chin, along her resolutely squared shoulders, and wraps in the midnight velvet of her dress.

He tilts his head to the left for a second.

"Let's get out of here."

Petra blinks.

"W—are we going home already?"

Levi looks at her wryly. _Home. _

"I meant out of this suffocating ballroom."

"Oh—" Petra lights up again. "Sure!"

They sidestep the loose sprinklings of people, toward a double set of glass doors that frame the outside dusk.

"_I've been looking everywhere for you guys!_"

Shit. They both turn to the clanking footsteps. Though he saw her earlier this evening, Levi is once again disoriented by the loose brown hair and missing thick-rimmed glasses.

"Hanji!"

Levi cannot fathom the happiness in Petra's tone.

Hanji dramatically skids to a stop in front of them, a tall gangly man trotting up slightly behind her.

"Trefor." Petra cranes her neck to smile up at Hanji's date—more appropriately, the man she could snag with the least exertion—her secretary.

"Hi, Ms. Ral!" Trefor holds up his glasses and beams down at her like a _fucking light bulb _and Levi has the sudden urge to snap at him—

"Petra!" Hanji interrupts. "I saw you dancing with a sack of mashed potatoes, was little Levi here je—"

A brunette girl spouts out of the crowd and pokes her head into their loose circle.

"Potatoes?"

She stares around, doe-eyed. Levi bristles.

"Who the _hell_ is thi—"

"Sasha!"

A short monk-boy appears at the brunette's heels, face paling to a shade of _oh shit _when he sees the group. He snaps his feet together and stamps a fist over his heart.

"C-corporal Levi! Squad Leader Hanji! Ms. Ral! I'm so sorry a—"

"Hey!" Trefor pipes up. "What about me?"

"—so sorry about Sasha she has this thing with putting things in her mouth I'm so sorry she inter—"

"At ease." Petra interjects gently, taking a step towards him. "You're Connie Springer?" Monk-boy lets his hand slide down to his side, blinking.

"Yes ma'am."

Petra beams.

"I remember you from when I went with Eren to visit his 104th friends. Lovely to see you again!"

Levi glances at her incredulously. Monk-boy—_Springer_—stares at Petra like a vision.

"I-I'm—nice to you too—I mean, to _see _you too…"

"And you're Sasha Braus?" Petra smiles at potato-girl. "I remember you, too! We don't have any food here, but you can ask the waiters for some Duchess Potatoes…Corporal ordered it, was it good?"

Levi's eyebrows twitch as Petra turns her bright expression up to him expectantly.

Just as he pries his lips open because _goddammit this woman needs to stop staring at him_—potato-girl spins on her heels and makes a bee-line for a waiter.

"Wai—Sasha!" Monk-boy frantically looks back and forth, hastily salutes again, and chases after her.

"Nice seeing you!" Petra waves cheerfully after the two and Levi considers giving her a day off next week, to go to the doctor and get her head checked. But he decides against mentioning it now because then Hanji will insist on checking Petra herself—

Levi shudders.

"Levi. Petra. Hanji."

Erwin weaves out of the crowd alongside a bright-eyed young woman in an ice-pink gown. Levi only remembers that her name starts with the same letter as Petra's.

Trefor adjusts his glasses disgruntledly. "What am I, invisi—?"

"Levi, have you danced at all?" It is barely a question.

"No."

Erwin's eyes flit to Petra—who is suddenly very invested in staring at the other dancers' feet—and raises his eyebrows expectantly at Levi.

_You're the one who asked her—_

_Because of _your _fucking mind games!_

But Levi turns to Petra, feels the words bubble from the bottom of his chest and out of his mouth:

"MayIhavethisdance?"

"Whaaaat?" Hanji cups her ear and leans in. "I couldn't hear y—"

"Yes." Petra _glows_, brighter than any other smile she has given tonight—bright enough to block everyone else from his vision. "You may."

Levi knows that he does not deserve it.

.

"_Now raise your right arm, Corporal."_

"_To here?"_

_She flicks her head to the left. _

"_Here." He feels her straighten to her full height. "Now spin me."_

_He has no doubts about the elegance in the tips of her toes—so he snaps his wrist and spins her away._

.

The first thing Petra knows is that dancing by themselves in gown and suit will be decidedly different than practicing with the rest of the Scouting Legion.

But it is less dramatic than she expected.

There are no fireworks in her gut as Levi curves a feather-light hand on her waist or weaves his fingers with hers—only a tingle that edges up her spine and hums softly through her body.

She has to take deep breaths though, when their eyes meet and she is pitched into deep gray-blue. But his gaze is warmer today, with little of its usual crisp edge.

Suddenly he steps closer—or perhaps he pulls her in—until she is flush against him, her chin brushing his shoulder epaulette and his army medals cool against her collarbones.

Their feet stop.

Levi lowers his right hand, keeping it loosely in hers. Before Petra can _think_, he pulls away slightly to look at her.

"You're not wearing heels."

She smiles in the general direction of his face because she just _cannot _look him in the eye because whatifhecan_see_thethoughtsrunningthroughherheadrightnow—

"Well, it…it's easier to dance with flat shoes." She laughs lightly. "And, um…well, you know, easier when it's the same as how we've been practicing..."

"When what's the same?" Levi's warm breath slips along her collarbone like a feather—again demanding, persuading, _tempting_. Petra consciously eases the tension in all her muscles that have wound up like straining rope.

"Height," she squeaks. He turns into a statue for a second—and then raises their right hands again, and Petra takes this as a sign to continue dancing.

He spins her around and then says it, so quietly that she thinks it might be the wind in her ears.

"Thank you."

All her years with Levi, and it is those two hushed words that make her feel she is beginning to know him—and suddenly a million heart strings are pulling her toward the solid plane of his chest and she has to _resist _with every fiber of her body to keep from leaning in.

It takes her forever and a half to find words.

"And thank _you_." She brims each with sincerity. "For asking me to be your partner. I'm…so happy to be here."

"Even if this whole _ball _is just a game of politics?" Petra's lips almost twitch up. Her commanding officer is back. "Even if this is just a dog treat for good behavior?"

In the background, the music thrums to silence, replaced by light applause before the conversation swells.

"Yes. Even then." They let go of each other but do not step away. "It reminds me of why I fight."

"Such as?" Levi is irritated at the memory. "Like—that…_Baron_?"

For once, Petra does not smile in response, but draws her chin up and answers straight into Levi's eyes.

"You're worth fighting for, Corporal."

He has been told this before, but always garnished with a salute and a fierce expression that promises too much.

Her face is calm. Not persuading, not demanding. Calm as if she speaks only the most perfect truth and nothing can sway that conviction.

"Levi."

The calm ripples into soft confusion.

"While we're here…call me Levi."

_This is so fucking cheesy._

* * *

The carriage stops.

"Petra?"

She sleep-sighs, velvet dress rustling hush-hush as she presses more snugly into the crook of his neck.

He glances out to the castle across a moon-painted lawn.

_We're home._

* * *

**a/n: ****This is way too long to be a drabble...so this series is now unofficially a Rivetra dump instead. Thanks for reading, review? :]**


End file.
